


Falling Down

by ImperatrixPDX



Category: Outlast (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Eventual crazy!Waylon, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Sexual Abuse, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-27
Updated: 2014-11-24
Packaged: 2018-02-22 20:07:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2520194
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImperatrixPDX/pseuds/ImperatrixPDX
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On his first day at Mount Massive High School, Waylon Park meets the enigma Eddie Gluskin. Immediately drawn to each other, their lives spiral out of control. Waylon has his own demons to fight as he tries to confront Eddie's head on.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm literally fucking garbage at summaries, please forgive me. Basically this is a high school AU where Waylon and Eddie are fucked in the head and just crazy for each other. Miles, Billy, Jeremy, Dennis, Pyro, Lisa, and Chris all get caught up in their bullshit. There will be two character deaths. This is my first fan fiction in seriously 10 years so please feel free to bully me and tell me how to make it better. My writing is very, VERY rusty.
> 
> PS: Title has nothing to do with anything so far. It just happened to be the name of the song I was listening to while drunk and trying to figure out what to name this abomination.
> 
> Enjoy!

Waylon Park’s heart hammered in his chest as he stood in front of the entrance to Mount Massive High School. He clutched his class schedule with trembling hands and, taking a deep breath, tried to steel himself.

_It’s not so bad being the new kid. There’s nothing to worry about_ , Waylon thought. _But...what if they find out…?_

He ran his fingers through his sandy blonde hair. No, he wouldn’t think about that. It was in the past, it was taken care of. He couldn’t let it get to him. They were far far away from his old school and he couldn’t be hurt like that again. If he never said a thing, the students and teachers here would never know. Besides, he only had one more year left of high school, then he’d be off to Berkeley. His father’s new job in this small Colorado town was a new chance for him. Sure, he would miss the misty hills of the Pacific Northwest, but Waylon thought he was nothing if not resilient. Though, the Winter here was much colder than anything he’d ever experienced. The early December air bit at his ears and nose, making them red and numb. Dirty snow crunched under his shoes. Tugging his heavy jacket tighter around himself, Waylon walked into school.

Mount Massive High School was a small building. It was two stories tall and served students from Leadville and a few of the neighboring towns. The building itself was made of brick, kind of old and run down, but Waylon thought it was charming. His previous high school had been a massive place, very easy to make trouble and then bolt and hide. He’d have to keep on his toes here.

Waylon was trying to find his way to his first class; homeroom. He had a printed map of the school that was provided to him when he picked up his schedule and books the previous Friday, but his sense of direction was non-existent and he found himself hopelessly lost already. Skulking around the halls with his nose in the map, Waylon didn’t see the standing boy he was quickly approaching. He didn’t flick his eyes up in time and ran directly into the other boy’s hard back, throwing himself off balance and landing on his bottom with a surprised “Oh!”

The boy whipped around and stared down at Waylon with blue eyes like chips of ice. Waylon thought he saw a flicker of cold panic across his face, then surprise and curiosity, before it melted into red hot anger.

“I-I’m sorry,” Waylon said. “I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going.”

The boy looming over Waylon was huge, to say the least. He was tall and broad and all solid muscle. His black hair was clipped to an undercut, and Waylon shivered at the pale gaze sizing him up. Before Waylon could say anything else, the dark-haired boy was stomping off around the corner and away from Waylon.

“Jeez, not even here 15 minutes and you’re already on Gluskin’s bad side,” a voice said at Waylon’s side.

Waylon looked up at the source of the voice and was greeted by a wide smile. A hand extended towards him.

“Here, let me help you up.”

Waylon took the hand and hoisted himself up, dusting dirt off the seat of his pants. “Thank you,” he said.

“Hey man, no problem. You lost? You look lost. This school can be kinda confusing for new kids. I’m Miles, by the way.”

Waylon smiled back at Miles. “I’m Waylon. How’d you know I was new?”

Miles laughed and finger-combed his tousled cocoa brown hair. _Oh you know I was just sneaking around in the admin office last week and saw your transfer papers_ , he thought. “I know everyone here, and you’re an unfamiliar face. Plus, the way you were wandering around looking all confused, and the fact that you’re literally holding a fuckin’ map, well I just had to figure you’re new.”

Waylon’s face reddened a little and he kept smiling. “Well you caught me, I’m new. I just moved here a week ago. My dad got a job here with Murkoff Biosciences.”

Mile wrinkled his nose. “Murkoff huh? They’ve sure got their fingers in everyone’s pies.” He clapped Waylon on the back. “Where’s your first class? I’ll walk you there.”

Waylon was grateful for Mile’s help and friendly demeanor. It turned out they shared the first class of the day. As they talked in homeroom, they also found that they shared an English class and their lunch period as well.

“So, who was that guy you mentioned that I ran into? Gluskin or something? He didn’t seem very happy,” Waylon said, scratching his chin. He hadn’t shaved that morning and had a bit of rough stubble.

“Eddie Gluskin, dude’s got a legendary temper. Like, he’s put other guys in the hospital. He’s a total loner, I don’t think he’s got a single friend. He scares everyone away.”

As scary as Eddie was, Waylon couldn’t help but feel a pang of sympathy. He knew what it was like to not have any friends. He glanced at Miles and noticed him drawing something vaguely lewd in his notebook.

“That’s kind of sad...what on earth are you drawing?”

“It’s a dick with wings!”

The homeroom teacher cleared her throat and gave Miles and Waylon a look. They sniggered next to each other.

 

\----------

.   

The halls were loud and cheerful as Waylon and Miles walked to English class. In Waylon’s experience, having friends as a new kid on the first day of school was almost unheard of, but he and Miles had quickly bonded. They shared a common aura of snark and trouble-making, as well as a shared love of video games. The pair walked into the classroom and found it mostly full of students already. Miles seated himself next to a pale boy with milky coffee colored hair and gave Waylon an apologetic smile.

_Looks like I’ll have to find a different spot_ , he thought to himself. Raking his eyes over the available seats, Waylon noted that there weren’t many left. One empty spot was in the front of the class, directly in front of a pair of twins who were staring directly at Waylon with inquisitive faces. They had their desks pulled closely together.

“He’s new,” one twin said, speaking to his brother.

“I haven’t seen him before.”

“Do you think he’ll sit with us?”

“Doubtful.”

“He looks nervous.”

Waylon felt tense being ogled at by the two. He then noticed the large boy seated next to the window on the left side of the class. It was Eddie Gluskin, and he had an empty seat both next to and behind him. Waylon chewed his bottom lip and made his way over, pulled by some strange urge to sit near Eddie. He settled into the seat next to him. Eddie didn’t notice him; his attention was held by the quiet snowy landscape just beyond the window.

“Hi,” Waylon said. He might be kind of awkward and over excitable, but Waylon couldn’t describe himself as shy.

Eddie turned his head and stared at Waylon for a moment. Then he glanced around and behind himself, as if he was unsure of there was really someone sitting next to him. He looked as if he was expecting some sort of joke to be played at his expense. “Hello,” Eddie said. His posture oozed caution and suspicion.

“I’m Waylon. Sorry I ran into you earlier. I’m kinda clumsy I guess.” Waylon chuckled quietly under his breath, mostly to himself. He rubbed the back of his neck and looked around, feeling his face grow a little hot. Miles was giving him a horrified stare from across the room.

“Thats quite alright,” Eddie said. He seemed to have relaxed a modicum amount. “You’re new here, aren’t you?”

“Man, am I really that obvious?” Waylon smiled and looked down at his hands, playing with a pencil.

“Well...it’s just that I’ve never seen you in here before.”

“That makes sense,” Waylon laughed nervously and saw just the faintest hint of a smile on Eddie’s calm face, that pale gaze still turned directly on him. Waylon felt himself grow hot again. He quickly broke eye contact and stared around the room, biting his lower lip again. Many of the other students were watching the exchange between Waylon and Eddie. “Uhh,” Waylon said. “Why is everyone staring at us?”

Eddie’s expression immediately went hard and he resumed staring out the window. “I don’t know.”

Waylon blinked in confusion at the sudden change in temperament. Had he said something wrong? He didn’t think he did.

As the class continued, Waylon found himself looking over at Eddie many times. There was something strangely pulling about him, something that grabbed Waylon’s attention and just didn’t let go. Eddie was dressed rather formally for a high school student, Waylon thought. He was wearing slacks, oxfords, and a button up shirt with a vest over it. He even had a tie on. Most of the student body wore jeans. Waylon found himself locking eyes with Eddie on a few occasions, and he hastily looked away with a red face.

After English class was over, Eddie quickly left the room. Waylon wandered over to Miles who was finishing gathering up his things. The pale boy was waiting patiently next to him.

“Hey,” Waylon said.

Miles quickly stood up and placed his hands on Waylon’s shoulder.

“Waylon, holy shit. Out of all the empty seats in the room, you had to pick the one next to Gluskin?”

Waylon gave Miles a look and batted his hands away. “Well seeing as how there were only three empty seats, my options were limited. The only seat not near Eddie was in front of those twins and they kind of gave me the creeps.”

“They’re harmless, their uncle is the town priest.” Miles shook his head in exasperation. “Seriously Waylon. I guess I wasn’t very clear earlier. You don’t want to get involved with Gluskin. There’s a reason everyone avoids him. He’s just...just weird. I mean, we’ve got a lot of weirdos in this school, but Gluskin is like, platinum weird. He’s dangerous. You should hear the way he talks to the girls. Dude’s got a screw loose.”

Waylon shrugged. “I don’t know, he seemed okay to me. Kinda sticks out, but he wasn’t mean. I think maybe he smiled at me?” The fact that Miles was urging him to avoid Eddie just made him want to know him more. Waylon always had a bit of a contrarian streak, much to his parents’ chagrin.

Miles regarded Waylon incredulously. “Huh, interesting. Well anyways I’m just giving you a warning.

“Duly noted,” Waylon said, rolling his eyes.

"Miles,” the pale boy spoke up. “We’re going to be late.” He gave a little tug on the sleeve of Miles’ shirt. He had a fond expression on his face.

“Right right,” Miles said, nodding. “Speaking of weird, Waylon, this is Billy.”

“Hi Billy, I’m Waylon.” Waylon smiled and gave a little wave.

Billy watched Waylon with his blue eyes, smiling back. He linked an arm with Miles and said nothing.

“Welp, this is where we part for now I think,” Miles said. “I’ll see you at lunch man. Make sure to come sit with me, alright?” He grinned and walked away with Billy, who still had an arm looped with Miles.

Waylon watched the unusual pair leave. _Huh, maybe they’re gay? Maybe I won’t be such an outcast here after all_ , he thought.

Making his way to his next class, Calculus, a pleasant mood spread through his bones. He’d already made a friend, no one was an asshole to him yet, and he was off to one of his favorite subjects. Waylon always had an affinity for the hard sciences and mathematics, particularly when it came to computers. He couldn’t wait for his computer information science class later in the afternoon. It would be an absolute breeze. Waylon could already understand C++ like the pros, a high school computer class would be child’s play for him. Waylon introduced himself to the teacher and found himself once again looking for a place to seat, and once again he saw Eddie sitting alone on the left hand side of the class. A small smile tugged at Waylon’s mouth and he went to sit next to Eddie.

“Hi again,” Waylon said.

Eddie turned and looked at Waylon with an irritated expression, his black eyebrows knitted together. Waylon couldn’t help but think that Eddie was strikingly handsome. The haircut was a little odd, but it suited him somehow. And those eyes…Waylon thought. He hoped he wasn’t making a dreamy face. _No, no, calm your gay little heart Waylon_. “Is it okay if I sit here?” Waylon asked. “Probably should have asked in the other class too, but,” he shrugged. “Too late.”

“Yes, I suppose it’s fine,” Eddie said quietly.

“Great!” Waylon grinned and turned to face the teacher who was beginning the lesson.

\---------

Towards the end of the math class, all the students had some free time to work on assignments, thought most of them were chatting amongst each other. Waylon had long since finished his work during the bulk of the lesson. He was watching Eddie out of the corner of his eye and noticed that the boy was struggling with a problem from their assignment, continuously writing it out then growing frustrated and erasing it. “Do you want help with that one?” Waylon asked.

“No,” Eddie growled. He then heaved a great sigh and set down his pencil. “I’m sorry, that was rude of me. Yes, I would appreciate some help.” He looked at Waylon with those piercing eyes and Waylon shivered a little. “Math isn’t my strongest subject,” Eddie said.

Waylon smiled and scooted his desk closer with a hair-raising screech. Eddie visibly bristled, but Waylon didn’t seem to notice. “It’s one of mine,” Waylon said. He peered at Eddie’s work and patiently walked him through the math problem. Waylon could smell just the barest hint of a woodsy cologne on Eddie’s body, and his heart started to beat a bit faster. “U-um, you see, this problem is almost like a trick, which is probably why you couldn’t get the right answer,” Waylon said.

Eddie was looking at Waylon with a curious expression. “I see. I think I understand now. Thank you Waylon.”

Waylon positively beamed. “No problem, I’ve always been really good at math and science and all that stuff. Please definitely ask me if you ever need help again.”

“I will, thank you again.”

The bell rang signaling the end of class, and Eddie gathered his things and stood up. Waylon only came up to his shoulders

“Jesus you’re tall,” Waylon said, following Eddie out of the classroom.

“Yes, I suppose I am.”

Waylon couldn’t fathom why Miles had been so stern in his warning about Eddie. He seemed perfectly nice. A little formal, but it’s not like it was a bad attribute. _Plus he looks like he could throw me across the room one-handed_ , Waylon thought. _I think that might be my thing_.

Waylon continued to walk by Eddie’s side down the hall. Eddie gave him a sidelong glance, but said nothing.

_He’s not telling me to fuck off, that must be a good sign I think_ , Waylon thought.

“New toy, Gluskin?” A voice rang out from behind them.

Both boys swung around to face the speaker. He was well-dressed with slick black hair and a predatory gaze. Waylon noticed that Eddie was suddenly standing much taller, shoulders rigid and tense. He was glaring viciously at the shorter boy in front of him.

“What do you want Blaire?” Eddie hissed.

“Now now, that’s no way to speak to me.”

The boy referred to as Blaire raked his eyes up and down Waylon’s body, seemingly sizing him up. It made Waylon’s skin crawl.

“Hm, I heard we had a new transfer student. Must be you. I’m Jeremy Blaire,” the boy said, extending a hand for Waylon to shake.

Waylon cautiously took Jeremy’s hand and gave it a firm shake. “Waylon Park,” he said.

“Waylon, interesting name. Well Waylon,” Jeremy place a hand on Waylon’s shoulder. “I’m sure you’ll fit right in. Don’t hesitate to tell me if you need anything at all.” Jeremy threw a glance towards Eddie that Waylon couldn’t decipher.

“Uhh, I’m sure I’ll be okay, thanks,” Waylon said. This Jeremy guy was making him uncomfortable.

Eddie took a step forward and Waylon thought it seemed almost protective. He loomed high over Jeremy.

You can leave now,” Eddie said curtly.

Jeremy stared down Eddie. Eddie looked as if he could rip Jeremy’s head clean off his body, but Jeremy didn’t display an ounce of fear.

“Control yourself Gluskin.”

There was a tense moment of utter silence between the two. They glowered at each other, and slowly Eddie shrank back.

“The hell’s going on here?” Miles said, walking up to the group of three. He had a sleek looking camcorder in his hands and Billy was following close behind.

“Hello Miles. Nice to see you still can’t keep your nose out of other people’s business,” Jeremy said.

Mile made a rude gesture with his free hand. “Nice to see you’re still a slimy prick.”

Jeremy gave both Miles and Eddie a look that said “you’re not worth my time” and walked away.

Miles rolled his eyes and turned to face Waylon. “Lunch time Waylon, come sit with me and Billy. We’ll introduce you to the gang.” He glanced at Eddie, acknowledging his presence. “Gluskin.”

“Upshur,” Eddie said, looking bridled.

Waylon watched the two awkwardly. “Well, I guess I’ll see you later then Eddie?”

Eddie eyeballed Waylon with an unreadable expression, then stalked off down the hall, disappearing around the corner.

“Man you just attract trouble like a magnet,” Miles said.

“That Jeremy guy seemed like a jerk. I like Eddie though.” Waylon shuffled his feet.

“Jeremy’s mom is the principal, and his dad’s a big name at Murkoff, Naturally he’s a huge dick on a power trip. I think he’s got his eye on you know, he’s always looking for more little cronies to keep around with him.” Miles sighed. “Let’s go, I’m fucking starving.”

Waylon followed Miles and Billy to the cafeteria. Billy hardly spoke a word, he just held on to Miles’ hand and smiled. Waylon thought it was cute and he smiled at Billy whenever they caught eyes. His curiosity was taking over.

“Can I ask a weird and probably astoundingly rude question?” Waylon asked.

“It’s pretty much impossible to offend me, go ahead,” Miles said.

“Are you and Billy...you know…?”

“Sordid gay lovers? Yep,” Miles responded plainly.

Billy smiled and moved closer to Miles as they all walked. “Yes, we kiss and we hold hands and we touch each other,” he said.

Waylon blushed a little at Billy’s response.

“Billy and me have always been together pretty much. I mean, this town is so small that everyone all goes to the same school. I’ve known Billy since kindergarten. We were always attached at the hip. And then we became teenagers with all these crazy hormones and I figured out I was gay and it just seemed like the most natural turn of events.” Miles shrugged. “We used to catch shit for it, but I think everyone’s stopped really caring for the most part. People don’t pay much attention to us.”

“I’m a Miles-sexual,” Billy said, snaking an arm around Miles’ waist as they walked.

“That’s sweet,” Waylon said.

“What about you?” Miles asked.

“A-About me?”

“Did you have to leave any girlfriends behind wherever you came from?”

“Oh, um, n-no. No girlfriends…or boyfriends.” He gave Miles a pointed look.

Miles grinned and pantomimed zipping his mouth shut. Billy smiled at Waylon warmly.

The cafeteria was a bright, wide open space, crammed full of tables and benches. Students were heaped in groups at the tables, and the sound of countless chattering teenagers was half deafening. After they all got their lunches, Miles and Billy led Waylon to a circular table where three other students were sitting. A girl with long, dark, curly hair spotted them approaching and waved enthusiastically.

“Hey!” She called out. “Is that the new kid?”

Miles grinned and clapped Waylon’s back. “Sure is! This is Waylon Park.”

“I’m Lisa,” the girl said, smiling widely.

“Hi,” Waylon grinned back. “I have to say this is the warmest welcome I’ve ever gotten at a new school.”

Miles laughed and sat down at the table. Billy sat to his right, and Waylon to his left. “Yeah well, we’re a ragtag group of outcasts and I just got this hunch that you’d fit in.” He smiled at Waylon, kind and unreserved. “I always trust my hunch.”

Waylon’s face flushed and he felt his heart swell a little. Miles was something else.

Miles pointed to the pair of quiet boys sitting at the table next to Lisa. “That’s Dennis and Jack.”

Dennis was of slight stature with a clean shaven head and startlingly green eyes. He looked at Waylon shyly. “H-hi, I’m D-Dennis.”

“Jack,” the other boy said brusquely.

Waylon blanched but held his composure at Jack’s appearance. He had close cropped black hair, and the right side of his face was horrifically scarred.

“Hi, I just moved here from Oregon,” Waylon said, his friendly face not giving away the dissipating shock. “So uh, why are you all outcasts?”

Miles grinned and pointed at himself. “Gay.” He then pointed at Billy. “Gay and creepy.” Lisa was pointed at next. “Jew”. He waved across the table at Jack and Dennis. “Burn victim, speech impediment.”

Waylon sucked on his lips and tried to choke back a laugh at Mile’s blasé attitude. Miles laughed for him, his mouth open wide. He began to dig around in his backpack and pulled the camcorder he had out earlier. He gestured for Lisa, Jack, and Dennis to move closer. “Get over here losers.” Wrapping an arm around Waylon’s shoulder, Miles turned on his camera and lifted it, pointing it back at all their faces. “Welcome to Leadville, Waylon!”

Waylon, Miles, Billy, Lisa, Jack, and Dennis all piled close next to each other, and Waylon smiled brightly at the red blinking dot.

 

\------------

 

Eddie preferred to eat his lunch alone. The clatter and ruckus of the cafeteria was too much for him to bear. He hated the way the other students looked at him, laughing behind their hands and boring into him with cold eyes. It wasn’t to difficult to find a quiet corner elsewhere in the building to rest in.

Chewing on a bit of tart green apple, he thought about the boy he had met. Waylon had startled him half to death when he bumped into him earlier that morning. Eddie hated being touched from behind. He had hoped his nasty glare would scare Waylon off, but he was mistaken. Waylon had cozied right up to him in English class. Though, Eddie could hardly blame him for not wanting to sit next to the twins. They tended to talk about you as if you weren’t there.

Waylon’s appearance was opposite of his own. Where Eddie was large and foreboding, Waylon was small and unassuming. His hair was the color of wet sand, and he was all gangly awkward limbs. Waylon’s honest, dark brown eyes made Eddie think of chocolate. He liked sweet things. The pallor of Waylon’s skin suggested the boy didn’t see much sun, instead spending his time in front of the blue glue of a television or computer monitor, but the freckles dusting his cheeks and nose said he went outside at least occasionally. Waylon’s skin had looked so soft. Eddie wanted to reach out and touch it. Would Waylon melt under his hands like butter?

A sudden chiming ringing startled Eddie out of his thoughts. He dug the heels of his palms into his eyelids, making little pinpricks of light dance behind them.

_Don’t think about things like that,_ _Eddie_ , he told himself.

He reached in his pocket and looked at his phone, then swallowed the sudden lump in his throat and answered.

“Hello Mom.”

"Eddie, your father is coming home from his trip today. He’s going to pick you up from school, so don’t dawdle after class.”

The call disconnected, and Eddie buried his face in his hands and wept.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the feedback, it's very very much appreciated! I'm actually stringing together a coherent plot here but it sure as shit doesn't seem like it, haha.
> 
> i abuse and bully my favorite characters, sorry not sorry

Eddie spent the majority of the next morning in the emergency room of the nearest hospital. After ending the phone call with his mother, he cleaned his face up and went about the rest of his day calmly. It was a skill he had long since learned well. Waylon had been present in all of his classes that day, none the wiser to Eddie’s inner distress. He sat next to Eddie in each one, much to his confusion. After the school day ended and the bell rang, Waylon insisted on following Eddie to the entrance of the school. Eddie had been very gruff and abrupt in another attempt to scare off Waylon, but either the smaller boy was oblivious or plain didn’t care, and he tagged along anyways. His father’s black sedan glared like a beacon in the parking lot, and Eddie nearly broke down right there at the sight of it, but he held his composure. He couldn’t let anyone see that side of him. Waylon had bid him a cheery farewell, and bolted off to catch his bus.

“Eddie,” his father had greeted as Eddie slunk into the passenger seat.

Stuart Gluskin was a great bear of a man. Though well into his forties, his jet black hair showed no signs of graying, and he was as fit and strong as any young man. His pale blue eyes watched Eddie carefully, and Eddie cowered under that look. Eddie was the spitting image of his father, and for that he hated himself.

“Hi Dad.” Eddie could already feel his hands beginning to tremble. “How was your trip?”

“Was that a friend out there?” His father asked.

Eddie’s heart lurched in his chest. His father must have seen him walking with Waylon. “No, he’s no one. Just a new student.”

“Hm,” Stuart hummed low in his throat and rested his hand high on Eddie’s thigh.

Eddie turned his head to look out the window, and they headed home. He knew what was coming that night, and did nothing to protect himself.

 

\-----

 

“He snuck out last night and got into a fight. You know how boys are at that age,” his father told the doctor that attended to Eddie’s bruised and broken body. “Looks like they got the better of him.”

The doctor looked at Eddie, and Eddie nodded, confirming his father’s story. The doctor then held up Eddie’s X-ray to the light in the exam room. “Well, he’s got a broken rib here,” the doctor said, pointing at the seventh rib on the left side. “Fortunately it isn’t serious, but there isn’t much we can do besides manage his pain.” The doctor held up a second X-ray, this one of Eddie’s right wrist. “His wrist isn’t broken thankfully, just sprained. You’ll want to wrap it in an ace bandage, and try not to move it around too much. I suggest you put an ice pack on it for fifteen minutes an hour for the next few hours, it will help will the pain and swelling.” The doctor handed Eddie a little piece of paper with care instructions written on it. “This is to take care of the stitches on your forehead. Try not to get them wet for the next forty-eight hours, that’ll lower the risk of infection. You’ll need the stitches removed in about a week. As for the eye, it’s just a burst blood vessel and will heal fine on its own. Do you think you’ll need anything for the pain, Eddie? We can give you a Vicodin prescription.”

Eddie shook his head, staring at his knees. He deserved the pain he felt.

“Alright then. You guys are free to go. Try to stay out of trouble, Eddie.”

Eddie’s face burned with shame. “Yes, I will. I’m sorry.”

The doctor smiled sympathetically as Eddie and his father left. Once home, Eddie went immediately to his room and crawled into his bed. It wasn’t much of a reprieve, but he was in terrible pain and had nowhere else to go. His body ached from head to toe. The gash on his forehead throbbed, the skin pulled tight from the sutures. The doctor’s needlework was sloppy, and Eddie thought he could have done a much better job at sewing himself. He’d have a scar for sure. His right eye was bruised, purple and swollen, the sclera gone completely red from blood. It looked frightening, but Eddie was immensely grateful that his eye had not been damaged in any substantial way. He thought about the fact that he would be back in school tomorrow. There would be whispering and pointing, and Eddie dreaded it.

_It will be difficult to write with my wrist all wrapped up_ , he thought. _It hurts to breathe_. Eddie peered around his room. He appreciated this space, with its cool white walls, pale hardwood floors, and bright sunny windows. The large windows faced the street, and Eddie enjoyed sitting at the cushioned window seat with a book or to simply watch people go by. He was a voracious reader, and had several overflowing bookshelves full of fantasy and science fiction novels, as well as countless sewing manuals. A wooden table was tucked against the wall in the far corner away from his bed. Perched upon it was an old sewing machine, and a large wicker basket full of colorful balls of yarn. Shelves full of embroidering supplies, bolts of cloth, and paper patterns were placed on either side of Eddie’s work space. His parents taught him how to sew, embroider, and knit from a young age. He was very adept at it now, a skill he was intensely proud of.

After a few moments of solitude, Eddie’s mother gently opened the door and sat next to Eddie on his bed. She stroked his hair with her cool fingers, a rare gesture of affection. “I’ve brought you some tea, darling,” she said. “How are you feeling?” Mary Gluskin had her auburn hair pulled into a neat bun, and was wearing a crisp blue dress accompanied by a white apron. With her make-up perfect and not a single thread out of place, she was the picture of an old fashioned housewife.

“I’m fine,” Eddie said. His bed was placed in a corner of his room, and he was facing the wall, his mouth muffled by his pillow.

"I’m sorry Eddie, but you know better than to test your father’s temper.”

Eddie barely suppressed a sardonic laugh. He stayed quiet, and his mother let him be. She closed the door behind her as she left.

“Fucking bitch,” Eddie spat under his breath. “You let him do this to me.” _You're the one who lets him have his way with you_ , a niggling little voice told him. _Coward_. Eddie squashed the voice down and sat up to drink the tea his mother had left for him. The warm peppermint soothed his throat. He was still hoarse from crying all last night and that morning. After his father had left his room in the night, Eddie laid there in agony until daybreak. He had to beg his father to take him to see a doctor. He still hurt, but he could better bear the pain now that he knew he wasn’t grievously injured.

Eddie rested all that afternoon and was left in relative peace. He had no siblings to bother him. He usually helped out with his parents’ business, but was in no shape to do so today. Gluskin Bridal was nationally recognized for his father’s gorgeous wedding dress designs, and they served as the town tailor as well. There was never any shortage of work. Eddie’s father frequently took out-of-state trips to various bridal shows in order to display his designs, and Eddie savored the respites. Winter was a slower season however, and always seemed too long to Eddie. He preferred summer.

Late that night, as Eddie lay in bed, he woke to the familiar sound of his bedroom door being quietly opened. Feet shuffled across the floor, and a belt was unbuckled. At that moment, he wished he’d accepted the Vicodin prescription. It would have dulled his senses and made him feel far away, if only for a little while.

 

\-----

 

In the gymnasium, Waylon stood with Billy off to the side near the bleachers and watched the students playing basketball with distaste. He had always loathed gym class and had skipped it many times at his old school. He found it ridiculous that it was a requirement to have a certain amount of physical education credits in order to graduate. _Why should I have to waste my time chasing around balls or running laps when I could be doing more productive things? I’m gonna go to college for programming, for fuck’s sake_. Waylon huffed and shifted on his feet. He dragged his gaze across the length of the gym, and for the umpteenth time he caught eyes with a very tall boy with platinum blonde hair buzzed short. Waylon held the stare until the other boy looked away. “That guy keeps looking at me,” Waylon said, nodding towards the tall blonde.

“That’s Chris Walker,” Billy said flatly.

Waylon turned his head to look at Billy, who was standing close next to him. The slightly taller boy was looking quite ill. His skin was pallid and clammy, and he had dark circles under his dark blue eyes. Waylon noted the slight tremble in Billy’s hunched over posture. “Are you okay? You look awful,” Waylon said.

“I’ll be fine,” Billy replied, staring at seemingly nothing.

The teachers signaled the end of class, and Waylon and Billy walked to the locker room to change out of their gym clothes. Waylon felt vaguely embarrassed as he undressed. His plentiful sandy chest hair had been the subject of some teasing in the past, and he could thank his father’s genes for that. As he was pulling on his t-shirt, a hand rested palm flat against the locker next to Waylon’s head. Chris Walker was staring down at Waylon, leaning his weight into his hand against the locker. Waylon gaped at him. Chris was easily 6’5, even taller than Eddie and just as muscular. His slate gray eyes frowned at Waylon from between a slightly crooked nose.

“Have you seen Eddie?” Chris asked suddenly. His voice was surprisingly soft, thought very deep.

“Err, no I haven’t,” Waylon said. He glanced around the locker rooms and analyzed what would be the quickest escape route. He could always duck under Chris’s outstretched arm and run like hell. Waylon was by no means athletic, but he was fast and squirrely.

“He, uhh, he was supposed to be here. We share this class.” Chris backed up and looked away with a flushed face.

Waylon found himself now wondering where Eddie was. He hadn’t seen a sign of him all day, but figured they just didn’t have any mutual classes on Tuesday. Eddie had been incredibly tense and uneasy when Waylon walked out of school with him the day before.

“I haven’t seen him since yesterday afternoon, sorry,” Waylon said.

Chris rubbed the back of his neck and glanced around, then suddenly stuck his hand out towards Waylon. “I’m Chris,” he blurted out.

Waylon stared at the hand, then back up at Chris, completely bewildered. He took Chris’s hand it his own and gave it a shake. “I’m Waylon. Just started here yesterday.”

“I know.” Chris chewed on his bottom lip. “I saw you yesterday, with Eddie.”

Waylon hadn’t remembered seeing Chris yesterday. Had Chris been watching him? “Ah,” he said, unsure of exactly what was happening.

Chris stared at him for a moment more, then pulled a black knit hat on top of his head and walked away awkwardly.

“Well that was weird,” Waylon said to Billy, who had been sitting on a bench next to him throughout the exchange.

Billy was sitting on his hands and staring at the ground. “He’s very shy.”

“Are him and Eddie friends?”

Billy shook his head. “They don’t really talk to each other.”

Waylon felt troubled about the way Chris asked him about Eddie. He had no tolerance for bullies, and Chris looked like a brute. He found himself suddenly feeling very protective of Eddie. “Weird. I wonder why cared where Eddie is.”

“Eddie lives with bad people,” Billy said, his expression somber.

“What?”

Billy looked up at Waylon. “Huh?”

Waylon felt a little concerned about Billy now. His pallor was only getting worse and he was now acting as if he didn’t remember he had said anything.

“My head hurts,” Billy said quietly.

Waylon pulled his backpack out of the gym locker and walked with Billy to the hallway to head to his last class of the day. Miles was waiting outside the gymnasium.

“Hey Way,” Miles greeted.

“Hey Miles,” Waylon replied. He watched as Billy immediately went to Miles’s side and leaned against him. “Um, I don’t think Billy’s feeling too hot.”

“Yeah, he gets sick like this sometimes,” Miles said, wrapping an arm around Billy’s broad shoulders.

"My head hurts,” Billy said again.

“I know Billy. Here, have some of my water.” Miles handed Billy a plastic bottle, and Billy drained the whole thing in a few gulps.

“Waylon met Chris,” Billy said shakily, wiping his mouth on his sleeve.

“Let me guess, he scared the shit out of you and was really fucking awkward?” Miles said, laughing loudly.

“That about sums it up,” Waylon said.

“Chris isn’t so bad, just big and dumb and socially bankrupt. I know he seems like a bully, but he doesn’t do it on purpose. I don’t think he knows his own strength or how scary he looks.”

“Yeah, I thought he was going to stuff me in a locker or give me a swirly or something. He asked me why Eddie isn’t here today.”

“Oh? They got into this huge fucking brawl last year, cops came and everything. Eddie broke Chris’s nose.” Miles shrugged. “Chris is really weird about Eddie. Eddie avoids him like the fucking plague. I don’t know what their deal is.”

Waylon frowned. _Weird indeed_ , he thought. Waylon parted from Miles and Billy and went to his next class, chemistry. He introduced himself to the teacher, who then directed him to an empty seat at one of the large black rectangular tables. There were three chairs to each table, and the lab area was situated in the back of the classroom. He took a seat at the leftmost chair at the table.

“Hello Waylon,” a voice said, sitting down next to Waylon’s right. It was Jeremy Blaire, who was accompanied by a thin boy with dark hair pulled back into a ponytail. Round glasses were perched on his nose.

“So this is Waylon eh? I heard we had a new student. Nice to meet ya buddy, I’m Rick Trager.”

Waylon gave Rick a friendly smile as he pulled his textbook out of his bag.

“How are things going for you Waylon? Adjusting well?” Jeremy asked. He leaned back in his chair and crossed one leg over the other.

“Yeah, I guess so.” Waylon shifted in his chair. “I’m not used to this much snow. It didn’t get nearly as cold where I used to live.”

Jeremy chuckled low and smooth. “Winters here can be long.”

“Ohhh, is this the new one?” A boy said, approaching the table. His narrow eyes stared hard at Waylon.

“Yes, this is Waylon,” Jeremy said.

“I’m Andrew,” the boy said, his expression lascivious.

Waylon’s pulse quickened as he greeted Andrew. His hungry scrutiny made Waylon squirm. He had been leered at like that in the past, and it had not ended well. _Please no, not again_.

The class drawled on smoothly, and Jeremy and Rick were nothing but friendly to Waylon. Jeremy’s sharp confidence still made him somewhat nervous, but Rick was easy going and talkative. They were both terribly charming and Waylon felt himself warming up to the pair. Andrew, however, continued to make him uneasy. The boy was seated behind them, and Waylon swore he could feel his stare on his back. At one point Waylon looked over his shoulder, and Andrew smirked at him and licked his lips. His heart plummeted right down to his stomach. When the bell rang signifying the end of the day, Waylon gathered his things and rushed out of the room as fast as he could. He found Lisa, Dennis, and Jack lingering near the entrance of the school and talking amongst each other.

“How’s it goin’ Waylon?” Lisa said as he walked up to them.

“Oh, you know, just got continuously eye-fucked by some guy named Andrew,” Waylon joked. His tone was light and carefree, but in his head he was dreadfully anxious.

Lisa made a gagging sound. “Oh yeah, he’s a total creep.”

    “Where are Miles and Billy?”

“T-they went outside around b-back,” Dennis said. Jack stood neck to Dennis, surly and quiet as ever.

“I’m pretty sure Billy was about to puke and he really hates being sick in public,” Lisa said.

“I’ll bring them some water,” Waylon offered. He said his goodbyes to the three, then bought a bottle of water from a nearby vending machine and headed outside. He left through the main entrance of the school and looped around to the back of the building. He could see Miles and Billy a little ways away, huddled up against the brick wall. “Hey Miles, does Billy need some water?” He called out as he walked closer to them. Miles whipped his head around to look at Waylon, and his fretful expression stopped Waylon in his tracks. Both Miles and Billy were coatless and kneeling in the snow. Billy was keening and sobbing high in his throat, clutching at his head and rocking back and forth. Miles had his arms around Billy’s shoulders, trying to comfort him. Waylon opened his mouth to ask if everything was alright, but Miles held his hand up, cutting him off.

“My head, my head,” Billy whimpered. “Please make it stop, I can’t get it out of my head.”

“It’s okay Billy, I’m right here,” Miles cooed.

Billy suddenly retched and vomited black liquid all over the front of Miles’s white t-shirt.

The water bottle fell out of Waylon’s hand, and he ran over to them. “Jesus christ, is he okay? Should I call an ambulance?”

Miles shook his head as he helped Billy stand up, and Billy let out a pitiful groan. “No, he’ll be alright,” Miles said. “Come on Billy, lets go inside and get our coats. You can come home with me today.”

Billy clutched Mile’s sleeve as he was led inside, shaking badly. Waylon tagged along behind them after picking up the water bottle out of the snow. Miles gathered his and Billy’s things, which had been discarded on the linoleum floor just inside the door. He pulled his vomit-stained shirt over his head and stuffed it in a nearby garbage can. The liquid dripping off it was watery and black as pitch, and smelled of ozone.

“Still have that water?” Miles asked, pulling on his thick winter jacket over his bare torso.

“Oh, yeah, of course.” Waylon handed the plastic bottle to Billy.

The plastic crinkled in Billy’s hand as he drank the whole thing in one go, the same way he had done earlier. “Thank you Waylon,” Billy said quietly.

Waylon eyed Billy anxiously. Black vomit couldn’t be a good thing.

“It’s happened before,” Miles said, breaking the tense silence that had started to stretch on. “You don’t have to worry. He’ll be okay.” He drew closer to Waylon and leaned in close to murmur in his ear. “Billy’s, um, he’s not all there, mentally or physically. He was so sick last year that he got held back.” Miles smiled sadly. “I made sure to flunk everything so I could stay back with him. Please don’t treat him any differently than the rest of us, he doesn’t like that.”

Waylon smiled softly and nodded. He’d had experience with the mentally ill. His father was a psychiatrist and had frequently brought Waylon along to his work when he was able. He thought it was important for Waylon to learn to treat them with compassion, and not to stigmatize them. “I’d never do that,” he said.

Miles seemed to brighten, and he beamed at Waylon. “Thanks man.” He slung his backpack over his shoulder, and carried Billy’s in his hand. “Let’s get outta here Billy. Want to order some pizza?”

Billy nodded eagerly and took Miles’s free hand in his own, entwining their fingers.

“See you tomorrow Way,” Miles said as he and Billy left for the entrance.

Waylon shifted his heavy book-bag and took to leave as well. He was pretty sure he had missed his bus, but he didn’t mind. Downtown Leadville wasn’t too far away, and he wanted to explore a bit. He could always beg his mother to pick him up afterwards.

Snow fell lightly as Waylon walked the two miles into the downtown area. Leadville was a small town, but had a certain old-timey charm to it. Main Street was lined with many boutiques, cafes, and kitschy antique stores. Wrought iron street lamps lined the sidewalks and collected icicles. Waylon took a deep breath of the crisp, cold mountain air and sighed happily. He had been sick as a dog during his first week in Colorado. The high altitude was a massive change, and he was in bed with vomiting and dizzy spells as he acclimated. He hadn’t been much help unpacking in his new home. He still had difficulty catching his breath. A penny candy store caught his attention, and he went inside to buy a candy bar. It was crammed full of happy children freshly let out of school. They jammed their sticky fingers into glass jars full of colorful jellybeans and black licorice, filling little paper bags with all their favorite treats. Waylon bought two foiled-wrapped chocolate bars and headed back outside. A sign outside a beautiful white building across the street made his heart do a sudden flip-flop. Two large glass windows faced the street, with flowing wedding gowns displayed in them. _Gluskin Bridal_ was wrought in swirling silver letters above the red door.

_That’s Eddie’s last name isn’t it?_ Waylon pondered. He quickly crossed the street and peered into one of the windows. A woman was attending to a couple, showing them different elegant bolts of fabric. Overwhelming curiosity and a strange little twinge in his belly convinced Waylon to enter the store. A tinkling bell chimed as he opened the door and walked inside. The lush carpet was cream colored, and he bashfully wiped his dirty sneakers on the doormat provided.

“Welcome to Gluskin Bridal dear, I’ll be with you in just a few moments,” the woman said to Waylon.

Waylon stuffed his hands nervously into his jean pockets and wandered around a bit. Dresses made of luxurious materials were hung on racks and displayed on mannequins all over. He peered at a catalog laid on a dark chestnut end table, and was amazed at just how many shades of white existed and were listed inside. Cream, ivory, eggshell, old lace, pearl, ghost, vanilla, seashell, it went on and on. _What the hell is a cosmic latte?_ The list of fabrics was equally confusing. Waylon didn’t think he’d ever even heard of damask or peau de soie.

“Thank you for your patience, what can I do for you love?” The woman asked, approaching Waylon.

Waylon was suddenly tongue tied. What the hell was an eighteen year old boy doing inside of a wedding shop? “U-uhh...” Waylon shuffled his feet. The woman was smiling pleasantly at him. The name-tag on her immaculate, ruffled white apron read Mary Gluskin. A pearl necklace hung around her pale throat. “Does Eddie live here?” he blurted out. Waylon’s cheek and ears went hot. _What the hell are you doing? This is a store, why would he live in a store? Why do you even care?_ Waylon rationalized that the second and third floors of the building could very well be a living space, but he couldn’t fathom why it mattered so much to him.

“I’m afraid Eddie is quite ill today. I’m his mother, Mary. Do you know him from school?”

Waylon rubbed the back of his head. “Yeah, we share a bunch of classes.” _Ah, he’s sick. I guess that’s why he wasn’t here today._ “Could you, uh, could you give this to him?” Waylon dug a scrap of paper out of his school bag and scribbled “Feel better - Waylon” on it. He handed it and a chocolate bar to Mary.

She smiled and took the items from Waylon’s hands. “Of course dear, I’ll make sure he gets it.”

Waylon hurried out of the store, then gazed up at the windows above him. Could one of them be Eddie’s room? He wiped his cold, runny nose on his wool glove and sniffed. _You’re such a hopeless creep._ He walked away from the building and called his mother on his cell phone. He’d had a strange day and was eager to get home.

From the display window, Mary watched Waylon wander off down the sidewalk. Her green eyes were cold. She would have to tell her husband about this, and he wouldn’t be happy. Stuart Gluskin didn’t appreciate any prying when it came to Eddie, evidenced by Eddie now lying injured in bed. She sighed and went back to her work. When would that boy learn?


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait! I had a visitor in town for a week and then I got sick and ruptured an eardrum. Fun times. Not a whole lot goes on in this chapter, mostly I'm building up to an actual plot now. Please accept my offering of a short sex scene as repentance.
> 
> Again, thanks for all your encouraging comments!! Please feel free to bully me.

The savory smell of frying bacon woke Eddie on Wednesday morning. The bed creaked slightly as he sat up, wiping the sleep from his eyes. His body protested loudly. Sharp pain radiated from his fractured rib when he breathed in, and the suture line on his forehead throbbed dully. He felt the familiar sting in his nethers as well, The dried blood and semen in his underwear itched his skin. He set the shower as hot as he could stand it and scrubbed until his skin was red, but he knew nothing could wash away the filth.

Downstairs Eddie’s parents sat at the kitchen table. Eddie went to pick up his school books from said table, where he frequently did his homework. On top of the pile of notebooks and textbooks lay a wrapped candy bar and a folded up piece of paper. “What’s this?” Eddie asked, unfurling the paper. He read it, and his heart did an uneasy flip-flop. Feel better- Waylon.

“A blonde boy who knows you from school brought it,” his mother said.

Eddie glanced at his father, who was watching him darkly. He walked to the nearby trashcan and pointedly threw both the note and candy away. He ate breakfast with his parents, ignoring the twist is his belly. When they finished, Eddie offered to take care of cleaning up while his parents opened up the shop. After making sure both of them were downstairs, Eddie quickly snatched the candy bar out of the trash and stuffed it into his satchel. He cleaned up the mess in the kitchen and went downstairs to head to school.

“Oh, Eddie, his mother said. Eddie’s heart skipped a beat.”Your father has one more trip this season, will you please drive him to the Denver airport on Friday evening?”

Eddie wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, hiding a faint smile. “Yes, of course.” Eddie’s mother didn’t like driving, so it was usually up to Eddie to take his father two hours out to the airport and then return the car home. He never came directly home, of course, and enjoyed his alone time in Denver. His last trip had been very, very productive. Eddie left his home to walk to school, in much better spirits.

 

\-----

 

In English class, Eddie sat in his usual seat and stared out the window. As he predicted, his beaten up appearance did not go unnoticed. No one approached him about it of course, no one really cared, but he felt the stares and heard the hushed whispers all the same. The boys gawked at him openly, and the girls watched him from the corners of their eyes. _Vapid whores, the lot of them_ , Eddie thought. _If you’re going to stare, then just fucking stare_.

“Hey Eddie!” A voice startled Eddie out of this thoughts. It was Waylon, settling in next to him.

“Good morning Waylon,” Eddie said, turning to face him.

Waylon’s face fell when he took a closer look at Eddie. “God damn, are you alright? What happened?”

Eddie paused in surprise. Waylon sounded genuinely concerned. “Ah, I uh, I fell.”

“You fell? What like, off a building? You look awful.”

Eddie didn’t know what to say. He stared at Waylon for a moment. “Thank you for the chocolate. I enjoy sweets.”

Waylon visibly brightened. “Oh good, you got it! Your mom said you were sick.”

_Is that the excuse she used?_ “Sick, yes. I’m afraid I had a bit of a fever yesterday. I was feeling weak and took an unfortunate tumble down the stairs.”

“Jeez, that sucks. Uhh, I hope it doesn’t weird you out that I accidentally found your house. I was just out wandering around and saw the sign, I got curious. I promise I’m not stalking you or anything.”

Eddie felt strangely warm towards Waylon. A small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “It’s quite alright darl- Waylon.” Eddie turned to face the window again. _Don’t get ahead of yourself. He doesn’t know any better. He’ll learn what a piece of trash you really are, and he’ll leave. Go ahead and play along with him. It won’t take long._ Waylon smiled at him quizzically. Was his expression giving him away?

“How was it?” Waylon asked.

“Hm?”

“The chocolate. I have eaten mine yet, I was saving it.”

“Ah, I haven’t tried it yet. I was saving it too. That much sugar first thing in the morning will give you a stomach ache.”

“Maybe we can try them together later? At lunch?” Waylon watched him hopefully.

_He will learn._ “Sure, at lunch.”

Waylon beamed as he leaned down to pull a notebook out of his bag. “Awesome. I didn’t see you in the cafeteria on Monday, but I figured we have the same lunch since we have all the same classes on Mondays and Wednesdays.”

Eddie watched Waylon thoughtfully. The smaller boy’s white v-neck t-shirt dipped down as he leaned over, and Eddie could see his pale collarbones. He hummed low in his throat and looked away. “I don’t like the cafeteria. Much too noisy,” Eddie said. “What about your friends?” He nodded towards Miles, who was laughing loudly about something with Billy. “Don’t you want to sit with them?”

“I want to sit with you,” Waylon blurted out. He sucked on his lower lip and released it, red and wet and plump.

Eddie adjusted his tie, loosening it at the neck ever so slightly. “Sure, of course.”

Waylon smiled again, then glanced at Eddie’s wrist all wrapped in a tan elastic bandage. “You gonna be okay to write? I can help you, if you want,” he offered.

Eddie lifted a pen with his left hand. “I can use this hand. It’s not quite as good as the right, but it’ll do.”

“You can write with both hands?” Waylon asked, staring in disbelief. “That’s really cool.”

Eddie hadn’t really given his ambidexterity much thought. It seemed logical to be able to use both hands in equal measure. His right hand was stronger with fine details, but his left was fairly proficient. Was it really so impressive? Against his will, Eddie’s ears pinkened ever so slightly. “That’s kind of you to say.”

Waylon held his gaze for a heartbeat, then leaned closer and opened his mouth to say something. His words were cut off by the teacher, finally catching the class’s attention and announcing the start of the lesson. Waylon gave him a sheepish grin and shrugged, turning to face forward. Eddie’s hands trembled just barely as he opened his textbook.

 

\------

 

Waylon talked incessantly, Eddie discovered, but he found it somewhat endearing. Waylon was bright and energetic, easy to laugh. He only quieted when thinking hard about something. Eddie enjoyed watching him when he got like that, warm brown eyes all determined, blonde eyebrows knitted. Waylon chewed his bottom lip a lot, it seemed. Lunch time rolled around, and Eddie patiently waited while Waylon explained to Miles that he was going to sit with Eddie today. Eddie received a snotty look from Miles, but he didn’t respond, just stared back unimpressed.

He and Waylon walked in comfortable companionship to Eddie’s preferred lunch time spot. It was the back of a long hall near some of the storage and cleaning supply rooms. It wasn’t a place frequented by other students. A couple plastic chairs sat stacked in a corner, unused. There was a single door to the outside present, which made the hall a little cool and drafty in the Winter. Eddie didn’t mind it, it was another reason that people stayed away and left him alone. “I like to sit here, it’s very quiet,” Eddie said as they approached his favorite spot.

“Quiet is nice sometimes,” Waylon said, and promptly sat on the dirty linoleum floor. He leaned back against the wall and starting rooting through his backpack for his food.

“There are chairs, you know,” Eddie said dryly, pulling two off of the stack in the corner. He pushed a chair towards him and sat in his own. “You’re going to get filthy sitting on the floor.”

Waylon hoisted himself up and plopped down in the offered chair, brushing off of his jeans. “Being a little dirty never hurt anyone,” he said. Eddie made an amused noise in his throat, and Waylon blushed. “I didn’t mean it like _that_. Anyways, chocolate time!” Waylon reached into his bag and pulled out the candy bar.

“You’re not going to eat your real lunch first?” Eddie asked, getting his chocolate as well.

“Nah. Chocolate’s too good to wait until last.”

Eddie couldn’t argue with that.

They ate their chocolate together, Eddie breaking off neat pieces while Waylon just bit right off of the whole bar. Eddie felt comfortable with Waylon. He didn’t pry, and he was happy to just talk about nothing. He knew this would change of course, Waylon would learn how disgusting and contemptible he was, but it was pleasant for now.

“These are really good,” Waylon said with his mouth full of sticky sweet chocolate.

“Don’t talk with food in your mouth,” Eddie scolded.

“Say ‘ahhh’,” Waylon said suddenly, leaning in close to Eddie.

Eddie stared at him, and Waylon’s hand appeared in front of his face holding a broken off piece of chocolate in his long, white fingers. He opened his mouth, too surprised to think about what was happening. Waylon gently placed the chocolate on Eddie’s tongue, knuckles scraping against his teeth. He grinned, and Eddie rolled the piece of chocolate over his tongue, licked the corner of his mouth. Waylon stopped smiling then, just stared.

“Um…” Waylon started.

“Gluskin,” a voice called out. Jeremy was walking over to them.

Eddie went rigid in his chair. _Please no, not now._ “Hello Jeremy.”

“Come with me, I need your help with something.” He leered at Eddie, a threat hiding behind those dark blue eyes.

Eddie looked at Waylon, who was watching him worriedly. “I’m terribly sorry Waylon. We can eat together another day.” He tucked away the uneaten half of his chocolate bar and stood up.

Waylon smiled at him, face openly showing his disappointment. “No problem, I’ll see you later.”

Eddie went to Jeremy and followed him as he was led away.

"You two seem to be getting close,” Jeremy remarked, voice laced with disdain.

“It’s really none of your business,” Eddie snapped.

Jeremy took him to an empty room in an empty hallway. He closed the door, locked it behind them, then turned and slapped Eddie across the face. “You should know better than to use that tone with me,” he growled.

Eddie’s face was still tender from his father’s beating, and the slap stung more than it should have. He cupped his cheek, eyes watering. “You fucking-”

“On your knees,” Jeremy interrupted.

Eddie grudgingly obeyed.

 

\------

 

Laying in bed that night, Waylon thought that Eddie seemed quite subdued after lunch time and through the rest of the day. He was still polite, but spent most of the time staring at nothing, and Waylon didn’t receive any of his gentle, amused half-smiles. Was it Jeremy’s fault? Eddie had seemed fine until he showed up. Waylon frowned, thinking of Jeremy. He had taken time away from his lunch with Eddie, and he felt a little resentful. The look on Eddie’s face when he fed him chocolate... _You barely know him. Quit acting like a love struck idiot,_ he chided himself. _You’re such a weirdo._

It didn’t stop him from furiously jerking off while thinking of Eddie’s soft mouth.

 

\------

 

Thursday was completely uneventful for Waylon. He went to all his classes and did all his work, socializing and playing the good student. He tried hard not to drool over Eddie’s muscular arms during gym. Chris had seemed very pleased to see Eddie back, but indeed as Miles had mentioned, Eddie completely avoided him. Waylon attempted to ask him about it, bringing up the fight he heard they’d had, but Eddie curtly told him he didn’t want to talk about it. The high point of his day was managing to convince Eddie to exchange cell phone numbers with him.

Finally Friday rolled around, and Waylon was very much looking forward to the end of the day. Miles had invited him to stay over at his house that night, along with Billy, Lisa, Jack, and Dennis. For senior students, Fridays were filled with mostly college prep and counseling classes. They bored Waylon to absolute tears. He’d had his plans figured out for a long time now. Some sort of presentation was playing in the auditorium. Of what, Waylon didn’t know. He had stopped paying attention the second he sat down. The dark room and low murmuring of students lulled him right into a doze.

“Wake up you fucker,” Miles said, poking him hard in the ribs.

Waylon jumped and glared at him. “That so hurt.” Miles just rolled his eyes at him. “God this sucks,” Waylon whined. “I hate all this prep shit, it’s a thousand times more boring than an actual class.”

“Tell me about it,” Miles said, absentmindedly doodling in a notebook.

“Drawing penises again?” Waylon leaned over to get a better look. It was a sketch of Billy, who was currently sitting next to Miles. “That’s pretty good, Miles,” Waylon said.

Miles grinned at him. “Helps pass the time is all.” He looked around the auditorium, expression mischievous. “You guys wanna get out of here?”

“We can’t just leave, can we?” Waylon asked.

Miles gave a kick to the chair directly in front of him. Jack turned to look at him, annoyed. “What?”

Miles leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and chin on his hands. He gave Jack a toothy grin. They stared at each other for a moment, then Jack returned the grin and stood up. “See you in a bit,” he said, walking away and out of the auditorium.

“Uhh,” Waylon said. “What was that about?”

“Oh nothing,” Miles replied. It clearly wasn’t nothing.

Waylon let it drop, and he, Miles, and Billy sat talking for a while. He learned that Miles wanted to be an investigative journalist.

“That’s awfully noble of you,” Waylon said. He was surprised, Miles had such a devil-may-care attitude.

“Someone has to get the truth out to everyone,” Miles said, suddenly serious. “It’s important. I want that someone to be me.”

“What about you, Billy?”

Billy seemed to consider Waylon’s question for a moment. “I haven’t really thought about it, to be honest.” He shrugged. “I just want to go where Miles goes.”

Before Waylon could say more, the fire alarm rang out, startling him. Students looked around in confusion and teachers hurriedly directed them. It wasn’t a drill.

“ _Well_ ,” Miles said, standing and stretching languidly. “We should probably go outside.”

All the students were ushered out through the appropriate exits, and soon the entire school was standing outside in the snow. Waylon was glad he had brought his coat along with him to the auditorium and hadn't just left it in his locker. They weren’t outside long when Lisa and Dennis walked over to them.

“Hey guys,” Lisa said happily. She didn’t seem terribly concerned that the school was apparently on fire.

“Hey-o,” Miles greeted. “Everyone got their stuff?”

Waylon gave Miles a suspicious look. “Yeah,” he said. His had his phone and wallet in his pockets, and those were the only things of importance he ever carried around.

"Let’s get the fuck out of here then. It’s two in the afternoon, they’re just gonna dismiss us all anyways while the firemen do their thing.”

Waylon looked around. There were short one member of their little group. “Where’s Jack?” He turned around, and Jack was suddenly there. He gave Waylon a wry smile. _Ah_ , Waylon thought, and they all left the school grounds.

 

\------

 

Waylon, Miles, Billy, Jack, Lisa, and Dennis all hung around town before they headed to Miles’s house. Cheeseburgers, arcade, record store, all perfectly innocent teenaged activities. They went to Miles’s home, where he lived with his mother, Evelyn. Waylon was sweet and polite, thanked her for having him and referred to her as ‘Ms. Evelyn’. She rolled her eyes at him. “Oh love, if you’re hanging out with my son you’re not going to fool me with that good-boy baloney. You guys have fun, try not to make too much of a racket after midnight.” She left them all to their devices after that. They all played video games and watched movies and ate junk food into the evening, and then Waylon learned Miles could _drink_. Around seven o’clock, Miles brought out the booze and Waylon gave him a scandalized look.

“Oh please,” Miles said as he poured drinks for everyone. “Nothing wrong with drinking at home. Mom doesn’t care as long as we don’t get into trouble.”

“Are we going to get into trouble?”

Miles said nothing, just gave him that Cheshire-cat grin.

They would not be getting into trouble, it turned out, because Waylon could not hold his liquor for the life of him. One drink left him pleasantly buzzed, two made the comedy movies so much more funny, three had him thinking _hey I’m pretty good at this, I should drink more_ , and it went on like that until Waylon could barely walk and was puking in the toilet and sobbing into Miles’s shirt that _yes, he was gay, he just loved penis so much, how would he tell his parents_ to which Miles rubbed his back and replied _there there, I had you pegged as a homo the moment I met you, please stop crying you’re drooling on my shirt_. Billy laughed until he cried at Waylon’s hysterics. Jack was just as mellow completely shit-faced as he was stone cold sober, but some of his gruffness wore off and he became much more easy to smile. Dennis was a little less shy and a little more bold, he clung to Jack and teased him. And Lisa, well, everyone had seen Lisa’s breasts at least once by the end of the night.

It was two in the morning by the time they all collapsed in the living room. Miles had dragged out blankets and pillows earlier in the evening, and they all sprawled out wherever they fell. Lisa commandeered the couch, telling Miles _get bent I got here first_. Jack and Dennis dozed off sitting next to one another, and Waylon passed out moaning in a pile of blankets next to Miles and Billy. Waylon decided he had a very good time indeed, but that hot wings burned worse coming back up than they did going down. His last thought before blacking out was of Eddie, wondering what he was doing on a Friday night, hoping by some small chance that maybe he was thinking of Waylon the way Waylon was thinking of him. _You’ve been here a week and you already have a massive crush, way to go_ , he thought, and his consciousness left him.

 

Waylon hadn’t been asleep more than an hour when the sound of rustling clothing and soft sucking woke him. He had always been a tremendously light sleeper; someone could sneeze across the street and he’d be up. Apparently this held true even when he was hammered. He cracked an eye open, head pounding, world spinning. The room was mostly dark, but the moon outside the window illuminated it some.

“Oh Miles, you’re so good at that,” Billy whispered.

Waylon froze. _No, no it can’t be_. He heard Miles’s voice hum low, mouth full of something. He quietly rolled onto his other side, feigning sleep. Not six feet away, Miles had his head buried in Billy’s lap, bobbing up and down. Billy was sitting up, his fingers tangled in Miles’s dark brown hair. Waylon was flabbergasted. There were four other people in the room, and yet Miles was still shameless enough to be doing this. Miles wear wearing only a t-shirt and boxers, and had his hand stuffed down the back of his shorts. Waylon’s face flushed heavily. What should he do? Pretend to slowly wake up and maybe spook them into taking it elsewhere? Ignore it and try to go back to sleep? No, there was no way he could sleep through this. Miles kept slurping and moaning around Billy’s cock. As awkward as it was, part of Waylon didn’t want to do anything, part of him wanted to watch. _They’re your friends you sick fuck_ , one part of him said. _They don’t have to know_ , the other, drunker part of him said.

Miles pulled away from Billy’s lap with an obscene wet _pop_. “Oh god, I want you to fuck me,” he said in a hushed sigh.

“You do realize you have guests right?” Billy asked, voice tinged with fondness.

“They sleep like the dead when they’re that drunk,” Miles said. “And Waylon drank so much I don’t think he’ll be conscious until noon.”

“Should I go get a condom?”

“No,” Miles breathed, high and needy. “I want you to come inside me.”

Waylon swallowed hard. Miles’s sultry voice was going to straight to his groin, and he felt the familiar tingle of rushing blood.

Billy kissed Miles on the mouth, wet and sloppy. He grabbed his hips and turned him over, yanking down his underwear. Miles groaned at the action, and grabbed a pillow and lid it under his hips. Billy positioned himself behind Miles, picked up something from next to him, and Waylon heard the pop of a cap.

_Oh my god, they’re actually going to do it. They’re going to ass fuck right in front of me_.

Billy slicked himself up, then leaned his hips into Miles slowly. Miles whimpered, and Waylon bit down hard on his lower lip.

“Oh my god, oh Billy,” Miles whined.

“Shh, shut up Miles, you’re going to wake them up,” Billy said, and leaned down to kiss between Miles’s shoulder blades.

Billy pressed himself flush against Miles, and they were still for a few moments. Billy began to move, and Miles arched his back and clutched at the blankets around them. He bit the collar of his shirt and held it in his mouth, presumably to keep from crying out. They both breathed heavy as Billy steadily rocked his hips into Miles’s.

Waylon watched them fuck, both incredibly turned on but disgusted at his own behavior. Miles shuddered and moaned low when he came, throwing his head back. When Billy reached his pleasure inside Miles, Waylon heard him whisper “I love you, I love you,” into Miles’s hair. Billy eased out of Miles and they laid next to each other panting. Miles pulled the blankets up around them and curled up against Billy. Billy wrapped Miles in his arms, and they fell asleep pressed tight against one another.

Waylon laid awake for a bit, willing his erection to go away. He might be a voyeuristic creep, but he wasn’t about to jerk off here. He idly thought about how badly he wanted a bond like Miles and Billy’s, before falling back asleep.

\------

 

Eddie was somewhere in Denver when his phone vibrated in his pocket. It was one in the morning and he’d long since dropped his father off at the airport. Now, it was Eddie’s cherished private time before he returned to Leadville. He peeled off a black, blood soaked glove and pulled out his phone, swiping at the screen with his thumb. He’d received a text from Waylon. He’d been very hesitant to give him his number, but figured he could just delete any messages he received, the way he did when Jeremy tried to get a hold of him. He didn’t need to give his father any more reasons to hurt him.

‘ _i think ur relly handsome ok byee_ ’  the text read.

Eddie smiled softly. The time of night, terrible spelling, and brash content of the message spoke of inebriation, but the compliment warmed him all the same. He would reply when he was safe back home, but right now he had other matters to attend to. He nudged the dead, bleeding woman at his feet with the toe of his shoe. “Fucking whore, you’ll be no one’s mother now, will you?” He slid the glove back on to his hand, and picked the long knife up off the ground. “I’ll rip the womb from your rotten guts,” he hissed, and got to work.


End file.
